


Kill Your Darlings

by Anonymous



Series: Killing Your Darlings [1]
Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Hannibal (TV), Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: ? - Freeform, AU, Age Difference, Biting, Blood Play, Canon Diveregence, Canon Typical Violence, I am so sorry, I got invested so expect more of this tbh, M/M, Multi, Murder Family, Polyamory, Professor-Student Relationship, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unethical Relationships, crackfic, tags will be added as i go along, youtuber/tv
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22569841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Will has already started to give in to his true nature. Ethan Nestor is a student to Will Graham at the Behavior Analysis Unit. One thing leads to another and he gets involved with not one, but two, as well as a lifestyle he isn't aware he's stepping into.Begins between Ceuf and Coquilles. AU, due to major canon divergence and addition of a semi-fictional character.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Ethan Nestor-Darling, Hannibal Lecter/OMC, Will Graham/Ethan Nestor-Darling, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/OMC, Will Graham/OMC/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Killing Your Darlings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633474
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23
Collections: Anonymous





	Kill Your Darlings

**Author's Note:**

> I hope whoever reads this enjoys! It started as a fucking joke, but here we are!
> 
> Disclaimer: I have the highest respect for Ethan, and this does not reflect it very well. I normally tend to stay away from writing real people into fics. The "Ethan" in the fic is more heavily based on the real Ethan and uses his appearance, but other than that, it is entirely a work of fiction and he is depicted sexually and violently. Enjoy!
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated! Also, maybe suggestions on what you'd like to see in upcoming chapters if you found this to be a pleasant experience.

Ethan stared at the pop quiz and sighed, wiggling his pencil. He knew he should have gone to sleep earlier than he had the night before, but Mark wanted to show him his most recent project, and he didn’t get to see him as much recently. It was unlike his professor to give a pop quiz, to begin with, but Ethan knew he was being spread thin, he could see it on his face.

_“In most cases of _____ a suck bruise appears in the middle of what type of inflicted wound: _____?”_

It had only been a few days before that the lecture, the lecture that was cut short because of Director Crawford, referenced in the question had taken place, but he was drawing a blank. He knew it was simple, knew it was right in front of him. He looked at his watch, two minutes left, two minutes for two remaining questions. He wrote in his best guesses: “sexual assault,” “teeth on skin?”

He wrote in bullshit answers on the last one, it being a paragraph with several blanks that he couldn’t bring himself to focus on. At the last second, he erased his answers and began to try to seriously read it, but only got halfway through it before the professor cleared his throat.

“Pencils down, pass your papers to the front, please.” Will crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the desk, waiting for a woman in the front to stand and bring him all of the collected papers as she normally did in cases such as these.

Ethan passed the paper down and put his head in his hands, sighing once again and breathing in deep. He looked up and scanned his eyes over his professor, Will Graham. He cleared his throat quietly and bounced his leg. He wanted to kiss the sweat off his brow, wipe all that stress-

A documentary started playing on the large screen at the front and Will took his seat at his desk, grading with the light of the film. Ethan had zoned out, lost in his thoughts. He straightened up, embarrassed with himself. It didn’t stop him from doing it again, though, eyes dragging down from the screen and focusing on Will until his vision was blurry and unfocused, thinking shameful things about a man he had no business thinking about that way.

Before he knew it, the lights were back on and the screen off, Will leaned against his desk once more.

“When I say your name, come collect your paper and dismiss yourselves,” He explained, voice just almost wavering. Ethan put his things away, waiting for his name to be called amongst his classmates, but after several moments, he was the final person left. He picked at his nails, eyebrows furrowed.

“Ethan Nestor?” Will asked, holding just one sheet and looking up, eyes landing on Ethan, making him stand. He made his way to the front and held his hand out to take the sheet, but Will didn’t look at him, rounding his desk to sit down, “Have a seat please.”

Ethan froze.

“Sorry?” He couldn’t have heard correctly. He sat anyways, sitting straight and holding his bag in his lap, tapping his fingers nervously.

“You left your name blank. And you scored ⅕,” Will explained, pushing his glasses up slightly but not all the way, barely glancing at his student. Ethan glared at the paper, chewing his lip. Professor Graham never called students to stay after class, and he wasn’t prepared for it at all. Instead, he smiled as best he could.

“Well, I. I didn’t get a lot of sleep, and I didn’t expect a pop quiz, and-”

“Not very valid excuses, Mr. Nestor.” Will cut him off and held the paper, “I expected more from you, you’re usually on top of your work, almost top of the class.”

Ethan’s smile dissipated immediately. He didn’t strike Ethan as the kind of teacher to dole out disappointment, much less the type to notice something like this.

Will looked up, sighing. Ethan felt his eyes on him and met them only briefly, looking away again.

“I’m sorry, Professor. It won’t happen again, I. Well, I,” Ethan was losing his train of thought, lack of sleep on top of the stress of a weighted disappointment from someone he looked up to. “I won’t ask for extra credit. You’re right, it. I should have been more prepared.” He stumbled over his words.

“Well, the pop quiz doesn’t count for a grade,” Will said, voice just as liltingly monotonous as it normally was, but he was looking at Ethan with some kind of sympathy. Ethan could only see this because, despite his feature being the same sleep-deprived and distracted neutral that it had been for the last several weeks, he was leaned forward and his eyebrows were just slightly furrowed. Ethan relaxed but fidgeted.

“I don’t make a habit of interacting with most students. I have a knack for avoiding socializing, but you didn’t pay attention to the documentary, and you scored lowest in class, and the one question you did get correct, you only got _kind of_ correct,” Will finally looked up at Ethan, who was sitting with eyes just slightly wider than they had been. He could see the skin over his student’s pulse thumping in tandem with his heart a little quicker.

“I understand,” Ethan said, nodding minutely, lips tight and avoiding eye contact. It wouldn’t be obvious to someone who didn’t spend most of every interaction doing the exact same thing.

Will took off his glasses and pinched his nose, sighing and putting it all together. He had to admit, he was a little slow on the pitch.  
“Professor? Are you o-”

“If there’s a distraction preventing you from learning in my class, we can take this time to discuss it, Mr. Nestor.” Ethan swallowed hard. _Fuck._

“I don’t- Professor Graham, I already said I didn’t get a lot of sleep,” Ethan tried. At least it was only half a lie. Will put his glasses back on, a tight-lipped smile playing on his lips.

Will didn’t very much feel like himself recently. He relaxed and let his smile do the same.

“We’re both adults, correct, Mr. Nestor?” He asked, watching Ethan’s pupils dilate oh-so-slightly.

“C-” Ethan cleared his throat, fixing his posture, “Correct, Professor.” His mind raced, no faster than usual, but it was more stressful, more focused, more confused.

“So you can tell me what kept you distracted, correct?” Will raised his eyebrows, head tilting forward and to the side, welcoming the truth. Ethan took a deep breath and shrugged, laughing nervously.

“I’m sure that I-I don’t know what you’re implying. Whatever you think is-” Ethan was cut off once again, not having enough time to even consider it rude by the time Will spoke.

“I saw you staring at me, the entire class period,” Will said, not annoyed like one would expect. He looked amused, at least, as amused as someone who hardly showed emotion in class could be.

Ethan still rushed to apologize, tripping over his words and shifting uncomfortably, wanting to wake up, “I’m. I’m really sorry, Professor. I must have zoned out, I. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean anything by it, and I,” Ethan averted his eyes when he saw Will staring, “I didn’t really think you were paying attention. I. It won’t happen again.” He looked up and Will was no longer behind his desk, but instead leaning against it, close to being directly in front of Ethan.

He had to look up to make eye contact.

“I’m not angry, Mr. Nestor.” Ethan sighed out his relief and laughed, nodding, “Why were you staring?”

“You seem stressed. You’re not always in class, but when you are, you’re still not. Not really. I was just ima- I was just thinking about the most recent cases you’ve shown us. How they’re weighing on you,” It wasn’t a lie, but Ethan almost slipped. Will wasn’t dumb, he picked up on it, but he ignored it for the time being, looking away from Ethan.

“Thank you for your concern.”

Will put his hands in his pockets.

“Is it that obvious?” Ethan shook his head.

“You almost said you were imagining. What was it you were imagining in relation to heavy weighing stress on poor old Professor Graham?” Will gave a cynical grin, the humor not doing much for the situation. Ethan seemed to pale every time Will asked him a question, then avoid his own truth, as if Will didn’t already know the kid had a cliché crush on him.

While Ethan stumbled over trying to come up with another half-truth in response, Will regarded him. He wasn’t bad looking, not at all. He had a sort of boyish charm, the kind that radiated a sweet, if not awkward, disposition. It was easy to read him, let him bounce off those handy-dandy mirrors inside Will. He could tell the boy, the man more like, had ADHD more than likely, and his work hinted, more than once, that he may have some form of dyslexia. He was personable, but hard-working, had alright posture.

“Well, I. I was hoping you’d catch a break soon. I guess I was worrying too much, it’s none of my business, I was just fretting. You know?”

Ethan wasn’t satisfied with his own answer, so he wasn’t surprised when the man in front of his gave a disbelieving nod, arms crossing again. The corners of Will’s mouth twitched and Ethan narrowed his eyes in his confusion.

“Are you- You’re teasing. I don’t appreciate be- being mocked, Professor,” Ethan huffed, standing and pulling his messenger bag over his shoulder, scooting to the side, ready to leave.

“No, I’m not. At the risk of offending, I think it’s cute. I’m mocking you as much as you’re telling me the truth, Mr. Nestor,” Will grinned and looked at Ethan over his glasses. Ethan flushed and felt his ears heat up. He gripped his bag and tapped his fingers nervously.

“Let me make it up to you, are you free tonight?” Will asked, face blank but calm. Ethan opened his mouth to speak and closed it, resigning himself to nod.

He sat back down, looking up at him again, just confused.

-

Will could feel confusion wafting off of his student in waves. It was nice. He’d spent so much time recently being so unsure, overthinking it all, and this wasn’t exactly ethical, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as much as he should. It wasn’t the only self-indulgent line he’d crossed in the last several weeks, and it was borderline self-destructive.

“I’d like to introduce you to somebody,” Will explained, and Ethan just nodded again, looking like he had a thousand things to ask, but swallowed it down when Will pulled out his phone. He hit redial and saw Hannibal’s name appear on the screen, feeling the smallest flash of comfort before putting the phone to his ear.

“Will?” Hannibal sounded pleased to hear from him, “I hope you’re not calling with unfortunate news in regards to dinner.”

Will chuckled to himself, one arm still crossed comfortably over his chest.

“Of course not, I look forward to seeing you. But I was wondering if I could bring a guest?” Will hummed his question with a hopefulness that he was betting on piquing Hannibal’s curiosity.

“Does our guest have any food allergies or is this a different kind of guest, dear Will?”

Will could have shuddered, swallowing hard himself, glancing at Ethan, who was trying his best not to seem as if he was eavesdropping but wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

“Do you have any food allergies?” Ethan almost didn’t answer but he nodded.

“Peanuts, severely. Is that okay?” He asked.

Will smiled and nodded, holding a finger up. “Our guest is allergic to peanuts,” and Will could feel Hannibal dismiss it immediately.

“And what time can I expect the two of you?” Hannibal was curious, more than curious, he was unaware of anybody in Will’s life that he hadn’t met.

“Seven, Doctor.”

“Travel safely, Will.” And with that, Will closed his phone and put it away.

Ethan was staring at him, waiting for some kind of explanation. “Doctor?”

“Yup.” Ethan’s face screwed up when Will all but dismissed the question, turning to put things in his own bag, silent in his usual way.

“I don’t have to worry about you kidnapping and killing me, do I, Professor?” Ethan joked, laughing easily at himself.

“Will.” Will glanced up at him, shaking his head and smiling.

“Excuse me?”  
“Will. Unless you prefer to call me Professor over an inappropriate dinner. I won’t stop you, Mr. Nestor. Or would you prefer Ethan?” Will didn’t have to wink, didn’t have to smirk, his voice was lilting and smooth, and he rounded his desk and didn’t wait for Ethan until he got to the door, opening it and letting him scramble out in an effort to not look rude, face a flushed pink.

“I- You can call me whatever you like. I mean. Of the two. Obviously,” Ethan wanted to punch himself in the face, shame a deepening pit in his stomach. He wondered if the rumors about Will were true, that he could read impossible things about people, like some prolific telepath.

“I would recommend you calm yourself down before dinner, Mr. Nestor. Doctor Lecter might start psychoanalyzing you, and you’ll prefer my questioning earlier to him asking you if you’re aroused at the dinner table or some shit like that, and he will. Trust me,” Will said with a grin, holding the door to the parking lot open, not missing how wide-eyed Ethan was as he ducked out the door, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“I’m not arou- Did he ask you…. that…?” Ethan asked, stopping in his tracks, clutching his bag, face still warm and getting warmer. Will shrugged and laughed.

“Something like that,” Will hummed, leading Ethan to his Volvo, opening the passenger door for him but not waiting for him to get in, rounding the front of the vehicle to get in. Once the ignition was started and they were on the road, Ethan was bouncing his knee.

“Jokes aside, if you aren’t comfortable, I can just as easily take you home. Don’t feel obligated to go to dinner,” Will didn’t look at him, didn’t like trying to apply comfort to an unsure situation. He could feel Ethan’s eyes on him.

“I accepted because I’m curious. Not out of obligation. Honestly, I’m convinced I fell asleep in your classroom and I’m going to wake up at any moment, drooling at my desk,” Ethan shrugged, “I thought it was uncharacteristic of you to even ask me to stay after class, but within the hour you’ve called me on my bullshit and invited me to dinner with another man, and I’m just. I get nervous when I feel another shoe is about to drop.”

Will smiled and tapped the wheel, driving smoothly and taking familiar roads to Baltimore.

“It was uncharacteristic. But, this is also highly unethical. Taking my student to a private, intimate dinner, toeing the line of flirting, confronting him with no reason to besides my own amusement,” Will slipped his own admission into the concept. Ethan shifted in his seat, turning his face away.

“Is it really unethical if nobody finds out?” Ethan pondered mockingly, stroking his chin and laughing at himself, continuing, “I mean, I don’t really mind. You asked if we were both adults earlier, so outside of the school, a private dinner isn’t exactly anybody’s business.”

He was trying to be bolder, be surer in his standing in the conversation. Before Will could reply, Ethan’s phone rang. Mark. Shit.

“It. It’s my roommate, I gotta take this.” Ethan said, to which Will just nodded, tucking away his reply. It wasn’t like they didn’t have the rest of the ride to talk.

Ethan answered the phone, clearing his throat.

“Did you need a ride home? I got the rest of the day off and I thought I’d offer,” Mark said, voice as warm and friendly as it normally was. “Amy’s here too, she said something about a potential game of monopoly, but I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her not to cheat.”

Ethan laughed and could hear Amy snarking a remark back, to which Mark mocked and immediately apologized.

“Uhm. Well, I have plans tonight, I think. Well, I do. I’m going to dinner,” Ethan explained, glancing at Will, not knowing how much he should really say, but he trusted Mark.

“Oh? And why are you not spilling your guts nonstop? Someone got a gun to your head, Cranky?” Mark asked, voice nothing but playful.

“Well, maybe I want to see how it goes. Don’t want to jinx it,” He said, Will glancing at him in amusement not getting past him.

“Ohhh. Someone special then?” Mark asked. Ethan opened his mouth to answer, but Mark continued, “Weird. You haven’t really mentioned an interest in anybody except your p- Ethan.”

“My…. My Pethan?” Ethan asked dumbly, making a face.

“No, asshole. Are you going on a date with your professor? That Graham dude?” Mark asked more than loud enough for Will to hear, and Ethan was too caught up in a panic to see a smug grin.

“Alright, thanks for checking in, Mark. I gotta get goin’-”

“No, no, Ethan-” Ethan hung up and smiled tightly, phone jammed into his pocket awkwardly, soon falling out and rattling between the door and the seat. He refused to twist and search it out, so he just faced the front, also refusing to look at Will, who was shifting.

“You get embarrassed easily.”

“I do not,” Ethan snapped.

“You’re blushing, Mr. Nestor.”

Ethan made a noise and covered his face, earning a chuckle from the older man.

A few beats passed and Ethan calmed down.

“I agree that it’s nobody else’s business. But please know that if you’re hoping to get anything out of this in regards to your grades, you’re out of luck. You don’t strike me as the type, but I didn’t strike you as the type to invite a student home with me,” Will said easily, no venom in his voice.

“Of course not, Professor.”

The silence was comfortable for the rest of the drive, and Will noted that Ethan still hadn’t made any effort for his phone.

-

Hannibal collected ingredients from the freezer downstairs, two vacuum-sealed bags containing livers, noting exactly who the original owners were mentally before returning upstairs, pulling vegetables from the pantry and fridge, unbagging and laying them all out in a display of color and organization.

By the time he heard Will pull into the driveway, he was pan-frying the sliced liver over a flame, green onions, garlic, and a squeeze of orange. He turned the flame low and covered it, wiping his hands on his apron and making his way to the door, opening it just before Will could knock. He smiled warmly at the man, eyes soon scanning over a much younger man, Will’s companion.

“Will,” Hannibal nodded and stepped aside, letting them in.

“Doctor Lecter. This is Ethan Nestor,” Will introduced him, and Ethan held his hand out politely to shake Hannibal’s, “A student of mine.” Hannibal’s eyebrows raised. Curious. He took Ethan’s hand and shook it firmly, but more relaxed than he would with a colleague.

“Mr. Nestor,” Hannibal regarded him, smiling politely, inhaling in through his nose. The boy smelled of nervous energy.

“Are you nervous, Mr. Nestor?” He asked, and Will gave Ethan a pointed look, Ethan glancing at him and pulling his hand away gently.

“I’m sorry, Doctor. I hope you don’t find it rude, I just. I’m not entirely sure what’s expected of me,” Ethan tried to explain, laughing nervously.

“Not at all. I assumed I’m not the reason you’re nervous. Am I correct in that assumption, Ethan?” He asked, Ethan paling and glancing at Will, who was standing to the side of both of them, watching them interact. He had his hands in his pockets, but he was almost smiling. Almost.

“Dear Will likes to play games. I encourage it, so he cannot really be at fault, can he, Ethan? You must forgive him,” Hannibal said, catching Ethan’s eyes. He could feel the shift, could see how unsure Ethan was now.

Ethan looked to Will for some kind of explanation, but Will offered none.

“If you would be so kind as to join me in the kitchen, Mr. Nestor? Will, set the table, please,” Hannibal turned and walked away without another word, and Ethan gave Will a questioning look. He only shooed him away, urging him to follow Hannibal. He did so, almost tripping over his own feet.

Once in the kitchen, he could smell the food clearly, his stomach growling. He’d only had coffee that day, two shitty cafeteria styrofoam cups of it, black.

“A sweet and savory dish, sliced liver and an orange sauce glaze,” Hannibal explained, rolling his sleeves back up over his elbows.

Ethan stayed where he stood, watching the man slice an orange in half.

“It smells amazing, Doctor Lecter. Really.”

“Delightful. Would you like to help, Ethan? Come here, I’ll talk you through it, yes? Wash your hands and you may begin,” Hannibal instructed, and Ethan did as he asked without question. He washed his hands and shook them off gently, turning to look for a towel, but when he looked at Hannibal, he was holding it up in offer without even looking at Ethan.

“Right. Thank you,” Ethan all but mumbled. He dried his hands and folded the towel along the creases it already had, just to give his fingers something to do while Hannibal put a saucepan in front of him.

“Squeeze the juice from both halves of the orange into the pan, use your hand as a strainer,” He said, a subtle authority in his voice, and Ethan didn’t mind obeying the simple orders, doing as he asked.

His hands felt sticky, the grainy feeling of the acid from the orange peels a texture he didn’t particularly appreciate.

“Very good, Ethan. Now, add each wet ingredient, stir slowly,” and just as Hannibal instructed, Ethan did as he was told, caught off guard when Hannibal spoke again.

“I assume Will asked you here upon finding out you had feelings for him?”

Ethan gripped the spoon and shrugged, clearing his throat.

“He. He caught me staring at him during class, confronted me after asking me to stay behind to talk about my grade on the pop quiz,” Ethan explained as best he could, “Didn’t help that my roommate called and all but directly confirmed I’m a basic cliché of a student, having some kind of crush on the older man in authority.”

He hadn’t meant to divulge the information to the doctor. He glanced at him, ears heating up. He was supposed to be here as Will’s - date? - companion, but here he was, hoping Hannibal didn’t realize right off the bat that he was getting the hots from him as well.

“How. How well do you know Professor Graham?” He asked him, following a silent instruction to add the dry ingredients when Hannibal nodded towards them with a click of his tongue.

“Unofficially, he’s my patient. Even further, we’re lovers for the time being,” Hannibal explained, turning the eye off under his pan, and when he saw the look on Ethan’s face, he offered a smile, “I am not angry that he invited you with his intentions. You can relax. He certainly didn’t bring you in hopes for anger, or equally, to put you in that position.”

Ethan stirred the sauce and watched it thicken, and it smelled damn near perfect, but he couldn’t ignore his heart pounding.

“I apologize, regardless. If I had known- If. If I had any idea, I wouldn’t be here,” He tried.

“Oh, now. Don’t be silly. I find that I’m enjoying your company. You remind me of our dear Will, but less mouthy,” Hannibal smiled like it was an inside joke. Ethan relaxed and smiled back.

“This is not how I expected the night to go, if I’m being honest, Doctor Lecter,” Ethan admitted, letting Hannibal into his personal space when he stepped forward to take the saucepan off of the eye. Ethan turned it off.

“And what did you expect of your night, Mr. Nestor?”

“I expected to wake up back in Professor Graham’s classroom, not have a gourmet dinner with not one, but two older men, two older men already in an unethical situation introducing another. For the sake of being dramatic, the taboo of it is almost overwhelming,” Ethan was testing the waters, less nervous, almost flirty. Almost.

Hannibal studied him, narrowed his eyes imperceptibly. “Join Will in the dining room, please, Ethan.” His voice was careful, but Ethan knew he had said something right, as Hannibal was looking at him like he’d rather serve him to the table than the liver. Ethan nodded and dipped his head politely.

“Of course, Doctor.”

-

Will was sitting in the dining room, not at the head of the table, but to the left of it, nursing a glass of whiskey he’d helped himself to. He regarded Ethan and raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t think I’d see you relax,” He joked, nodding to the chair across from him when Ethan approached. He took his seat and shrugged, glancing back at the door to the kitchen, and Will knew.

“Is it all older men, or are we special, Mr. Nestor?”

Ethan looked like he’d been caught doing something shameful. His face pinkened almost immediately.

“No- N-No, I. I normally lust after people my age, thank you, Professor,” Ethan almost snapped at him, clearing his throat in an attempt to clear his embarrassment.

“So you admit you were lusting after me?”

“Do you enjoy witnessing me shove my foot in my mouth, Will?” Ethan asked, almost miserably.

“I do. I see why Hannibal enjoys it so much, if I’m being honest with the both of us,” Will was smug. He leaned forward, “I’m going easy on you, testing the waters. Hannibal is insufferable with it, curious by nature and a sadist.”

Ethan kept eye contact, lips parting, the slightest tremor in his bottom lip on an inhale.

Will licked his lips, “Good answer.”

Ethan swallowed a noise, his gulp separated into two hard swallows, broken. “Why did you ask me to dinner if you already have a lover?”

He didn’t know why he was asking, but it was too late now. He was leaned forward, just like Will, and Will didn’t falter.

“Are you worried that I’m gonna toss you out, use you up with my partner and put you out on the curb?” Will’s voice was slow and calculating.

Ethan shook his head at first, mouth still parted. He wetted his lips and realized.

“W-With?”

Will leaned forward and closed the distance between them, hand holding the back of his neck to pull him into the kiss. Ethan tensed and relaxed immediately, pushing down on the table to half stand and get closer, chair almost wobbling over with the accidental force.

Hannibal cleared his throat and Ethan pulled away, wide-eyed and glancing between the two of them.

“You know your table manners, Will. Be a better influence on your guest, or you won’t be allowed to eat at the table,” Hannibal said calmly, pushing a silver trolley to the table. It held the spread of food, including a dish with the sauce Ethan got to make.

“Yes, sir,” Will huffed, the address carefully sneered, just enough to earn a look from Hannibal before he looked down at his plate, fidgeting. Ethan was confused but went hot at the name. He took his seat as calmly as he could, shame at being caught and feeling his pulse in his fingertips, heart pounding from the kiss.

Hannibal plated the food silently, taking the time at each plate to do a decorative thing, like a splash, with the sauce on the plate. It was like watching a cooking channel, but better. He could see each vein in Hannibal’s hand as he plated for him, and he was so caught up that he didn’t question the subtle but deep inhale over his shoulder as a deep-colored, and most likely expensive, wine was poured into his glass.

Ethan’s stomach was, thankfully, not giving away how hungry he really was. But Hannibal knew. He could smell it. Twinged with arousal and fear, Hannibal could smell only stale coffee. Ethan’s empty stomach and his needs would both be filled in time, but Hannibal lingered for a moment.

Between Will staring at them, at Hannibal over Ethan’s shoulder, at Ethan beneath Hannibal, and being beneath Hannibal, he felt that anybody else may have felt like a cornered animal. He wouldn’t admit that the attention was getting to him, a heady feeling that traveled warmly down his spine.

Hannibal finally took his seat at the head of the table, and it suited him. It was obvious there was a dynamic here between Hannibal and Will, and Ethan was either here to bare witness or take part, and he couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t mind either option. A just happy - lucky - to be here disposition.

Hannibal picked up his cutlery but made no move to eat. Instead, Will mirrored him and kept his eyes on Ethan, who did the same. Will sliced a chunk off gently, gliding the meat through the sauce, taking his first bite and transitioning to make eye contact with Hannibal, who looked somehow thrilled and neutral all at once. When Will inaudibly swallowed the bite, their eyes were on Ethan again, and he almost dropped his cutlery. He mimicked Will, pretended the fluttering of anxious moths and butterflies in his gut was excitement for the food alone, and took his first bite, chewing slowly and glancing between the two men, who looked like they were tasting the food for him, enraptured with him for reasons unbeknownst.

When he had time to process the attention and the flavor, he broke eye contact, looking down and simply saying, “Oh.. Wow..”

Hannibal seemed to accept the answer, finally cutting into the meat himself and taking his first bite, Will no longer waiting for anything and eating as he pleased. Nobody filled Ethan in to whatever the fuck that was, but after several short moments of racking his brain, he decided that the gracious doctor host held his own cooking in high regard and wanted to be sure there were no problems before allowing himself to eat. He hoped it wasn’t porny.

The silence they ate in was pleasant, but in the way that Ethan was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He gulped down his wine too quick, finished his plate faster than either of the other two, not paying much attention to them, but once he had nothing to busy himself with and he didn’t exactly know what to say, he put his hands under the table, wringing and fidgeting while a new warmth spread through him. He didn’t drink very often.

“Doctor Lecter?” It was Will that spoke, but Ethan was immediately relaxing, the silence broken. Hannibal just lifted his head a few millimeters, no need to speak, waiting for Will to continue.

“Should we retire to the study? Have a nightcap before I take Ethan home?” Will offered, and Ethan felt his own mood fall. He was more lost, not understanding if he did something wrong to lead to him going home after the earlier implications, but he didn’t say anything.

“I will clear the table,” Hannibal offered, already standing and collecting dishes, and Will stood, wiping his mouth and nodding to the door behind him. Ethan thanked Hannibal again for the meal before following Will, clearing his throat and mirroring his habit of shoving his hands in his pockets.

Will turned to face him from a cabinet, fireplace warming the room and giving it an ideal glow, holding two glasses of whiskey on the rocks. He offered one to Ethan, who stepped forward and took it with a mumbled thanks, still warm from the wine. He suspected it was stronger than any wine he’d had before, more expensive, and he wanted to feel bad about drinking it so quickly, but his nerves were calmed because of it, so he didn’t bother.

“You can have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” Will moved his glass in a sweeping motion over the room, and Ethan saw several seats. He didn’t want to sit in a place that was normally taken by one of the other two men, so he sat on an elegant loveseat near the fire, eyes soon looking for Will again, sipping at the whiskey. He came into view, and Ethan perked up, not worrying too much about seeming eager

“Is this seat taken?” Will asked, smirking at his own joke, but Ethan laughed, more a giggle than anything else. Will raised an eyebrow, taking the glass from Ethan’s hands and placing it on a coaster.

“Hey- I’m not driving, give it back,” Ethan huffed, “...please,” was added when Will just stared at him. He shook his head and nursed his own drink, getting more comfortable.

“How come you get to drink, you’re the one driving me home, that isn’t really fair of you, Professor,” Ethan remarked.

“Only if you want to go home tonight.”

“What?” Ethan stopped in his gradual tracks of leaning forward to get the glass himself, “Oh.”

“So?”

Ethan took his glass and shook his head, hiding behind it as his face got warm, and he wished he could say it was the expensive wine, “I- I don’t. Want to go home tonight, I mean. I wanna stay. But only if it’s o- okay.” He took a long sip, coughing when a piece of ice slipped into his mouth, quickly putting the glass down if only to avoid further embarrassment.

He looked to the door to the dining room and wondered where Hannibal-

“Look at me, Mr. Nestor,” Will put his glass down, taking his glasses off and placing them gently next to it. Ethan glanced at him twice before his eyes settled on him. Well, on his hand, the hand that was pulling up Will’s abdomen by his fingertips, slowly. Ethan dragged his eyes away, easing over a slow breathing chest, over stubble that looked darker and thicker in the firelight, over parted lips, finally meeting his eyes.

“I- I hope I’m not dreaming, Professor,” he admitted, a half-assed attempt at a joke. Will grinned as Ethan leaned forward, arms framing Will’s hips on the loveseat, but his hand slipped and his face planted into his ribs. He stayed there for a moment, huffing his irritation with himself before Will's hand carded through his hair and pulled, dragging Ethan the rest of the way up to Will's lips. It happened too quickly for Ethan to even attempt biting back a whimper, kneeling over Will.

Ethan deepened the kiss, letting Will pull back enough to sit up and pull him closer, situating themselves until Ethan was pulled into Will's lap. Ethan took his time unbuttoning Will's shirt, faltering and pulling on the collar when his bottom lip was tugged with sharp teeth. He rolled his hips down, not exactly slotted properly over Will's, but it got the message across.

Will pulled away first, panting softly and patting Ethan's flanks, squeezing before pushing him back, "Up, now."

Ethan almost lost balance trying to stand up backward, Will amused at how eager he was.

"Strip for me, Mr. Nestor," Will sat back, arms framing the back of the couch, but he looked more welcoming than intimidating.

Ethan felt a shock of arousal melt down his spine and he nodded, untucking his shirt and soon dropping it to the floor. He lingered on the button of his jeans, distracted by Will mirroring him, toying with his own button with one hand, the other teasing into his waistband like he couldn't wait.

Ethan felt a twist of anxiety in his stomach, intermingling with liquid warmth and he couldn't really help laughing at himself, unbuttoning his jeans and swaying his hips to a nonexistent beat, biting his tongue because he could feel his nervous energy trying to translate into a cheesy "stripping" song.

Will laughed, genuinely laughed at that, wiping a hand over his face. Ethan joined in his laughter, all focus on Will and how he looked like this. He didn't think he could fill even one hand counting all the times he'd even seen his teacher in a particularly pleasant mood, and here he was, comfortable, laughing at something that could only be described as endearingly silly, limbs relaxed and all clothes unbuttoned. Pride snaked itself around Ethan's heart, he's the one who caused that smile, that laugh.

Ethan made easy work getting his own pants off the rest of the way, toeing out of them and leaning down to pause, just to catch Will's mouth in another kiss, pulling at Will's pants, trying to help but also to feed his own impatience.

Will pushed his fingers under the waistband of Ethan's boxers, pushing until they were slipping down pale hips and hitting the floor and he could pull Ethan closer again, pull him back into his lap now that they could have actual skin to skin contact.

Will ran a hand through Ethan’s hair, pulling him back with a short jerk of his hair. It was a breathy whine that came from Ethan’s throat, lips parting, wet and pink. Will thumbed over Ethan’s lower lip, his tongue following the pad of his finger. Will pushed two fingers into his mouth, pushing them down against an eager tongue. Ethan closed his mouth around them, sucking gently and pulling them further into his mouth until Will pushed as well, spreading his fingers, gagging him.

Drool collected at just the corners of Ethan’s lips, and Will tutted at him, pulling his fingers from his mouth and smearing spit on his lips in a feigned attempt to clean up the drool.

“Tsk. Messy boy,” Will’s voice was gravelly, rough enough to make Ethan nod slowly in agreement, sliding his hips forward until Will let go of his hair, pushing his hip back a few inches. Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but Will’s spit slick fingers were rubbing over his hole, teasing over the rim.

Ethan went still, if only because when he pushed his hips back, Will gave him a look that could only be described as intimidating, and as much as Ethan wanted to test his limits, he couldn’t entertain that thought. Not right now. Not while he’s gripping his open shirt, arching his back and so close to getting what he’d wanted for months. Will pushed his middle finger in slowly, grabbing Ethan’s jaw with his free hand, watching his mouth fall open when Will wasted no time on letting Ethan adjust, pushing his index finger in alongside the other.

Ethan trembled and pressed his forehead to Will’s at the stretch, pushing at his hand with his jaw gently, wanting a kiss.

“Professor-” Ethan went wide-eyed once more, tugging on the shirt halves. Will stilled and pouted, just on this side of mocking the younger man.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” Will cooed, petting across his cheek and up into his hair, a silent threat, resuming the working of his fingers deeper into him.

“Wan’ a kiss, Will,” Ethan whined, not intending for his voice to break, Will finding his prostate and paying attention to it for only a few seconds. He pretended to mull over his decision to Ethan’s request, ignoring the bundle of nerves and instead spreading his fingers gently, stretching and working him open while refusing to give him a better stimulus.

Ethan impatiently tugged at the shirt again, earning a jerk of his hair. He moaned and shuddered, cock blurting out precome with a small bob against his stomach. Will twisted his fingers and pulled Ethan into a kiss, who kissed back eagerly and immediately, pushing forward to distract himself from the stretching, from the urge to move. His efforts were rewarded, Will finding his prostate again and massaging it, increasing pressure until Ethan was gasping and pulling away from Will too harshly.

“Please,” he begged and held Will’s face, “please?” It came out breathy and Will’s pupils dilated, the blues of his eyes dark and slivered. He pulled his hands free and pulled Ethan up to give himself room, pushing his boxers down his thighs the rest of the way to join his pants around his ankles. Ethan wasted no time reaching to take Will into his hand, wanting to provide stimulus in return, but Will beat him to it, licking his own hand and stroking himself, physically orchestrating Ethan closer.

“C’mere, baby,” Will breathed, and Ethan sank down on his cock, eyes squeezing closed as he tried to breathe evenly and stay relaxed, the stretch almost too much. He shakily ran a hand through his own hair, barely rolling his hips where they were slotted against Will’s once he had him completely seated.

Will spent several moments kissing around Ethan’s face, keeping them symmetrical, tasting tears when he placed gentle presses to the corners of Ethan’s eyes. He gave Ethan time to adjust properly, rubbing up his thighs and across the too-hot skin of his back with attentive hands. Ethan tried to return each kiss, feeling Will’s fingertips dig into the backs of his ribs when he rolled his hips experimentally. Will thought about that gasp and what it would sound like paired with a sharp knife and careful planning.

“Take your time, angel,” Will hummed, hips jerking up slightly, earning another little gasp. Ethan shook his head and slowly set his own pace, riding Will in earnest, if not a little slow. His thighs ached far too soon, stuck in the same position for most of the endeavor, but the constant trembling under his skin was beautiful to Will, and he let Ethan strain for a little longer, panting softly and groaning when he rolled his hips that much closer.

“Hannibal, little help?”

Ethan froze for a second, breathing heavily when he searched Will’s face, a shock of embarrassment chilling his stomach, “Wh- What, Will?”

Ethan looked around, following Will’s eyes. Too little, too late, Hannibal already had his hands on him, sliding up his sides. It felt nearly clinical, hands colder than Ethan was expecting. He relaxed into his hands, letting Hannibal explore and step closer.

Within seconds, Hannibal’s arms were wrenching Ethan’s back, from up under his underarms, putting him in a headlock. Before Ethan could stand and kick off the couch by instinct to try to escape, Hannibal spoke.

“Relax your body, Mr. Nestor. Nobody here is going to hurt you, and I suspect Will has only objectively questionable motives with you,” His voice lilted, low and snaking around Ethan until he relaxed, whimpering and nodding.

“I- I’m sorry, Doctor Lecter, I was just sc- surprised,” Ethan half-admitted, but Will responded with only a chuckle and hands pushing up Ethan’s extended torso where he was kneeling around Will still, “Is this… Is this like a bondage thing? With a special hug?” The attempt at a joke didn’t land, but Hannibal nodded against him.

“Do you appreciate the intimacy of being physically restrained like this, Ethan?”

“It’s growing on - hn. - me, Doctor,” Ethan faltered when Will thrust up harshly, tensing up enough to have Hannibal step closer to the couch to allow more comfort.

Will didn’t hesitate to fuck into Ethan at his own pace, decidedly pulling his eyes away from where they were connected and instead watching the way Ethan took his limp arms to reach back and stroke through and tug Hannibal’s hair, the way his face twisted and went lax, the way Hannibal stared down Ethan’s body to watch Will.

Will dug his thumbs into Ethan’s hips, nails dug in. He refrained from touching Etha, truly touching him. His gaze strayed, but was quickly pulled back up to Ethan. The noise wrung out of him could only be described as gorgeous, matching in beauty to the beading of blood around Hannibal’s lips as he bit down on Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan’s hips jerked and rolled, hands gripping Hannibal’s hair tight.

“Hannibal-” He huffed, toes digging into the couch, “hurts.”

Hannibal mumbled something out of earshot of Will, and Ethan relaxed again, panting softly and nodding, letting Hannibal clean the fresh wound with his tongue. Will heard the throaty noise from Hannibal, shifting on his hips and rolling his hips to drag over Ethan’s prostate, making him tense all over once more.

“Will- There, right there, please,” Ethan begged, squirming in Hannibal’s arms to look at his professor better.

Will quirked an eyebrow, worked his hips over the spot again slowly just to see Ethan tremble, “Here?”

Ethan nodded and tried to fuck his hips down against Will for more. Will patted his hips gently before earnestly abusing the spot, precome pooling on Ethan’s tensing stomach.

“Are you gonna come for me, Mr. Nestor?” Will lilted sweetly, running a hand up Ethan’s side up to his chest, fingers splayed out to feel his heart race. He dragged his nails down his side, harsh and sweet, and Ethan’s gasped, tensing all over, finally coming.

Hannibal kept Ethan in the headlock, and Will fought his own orgasm. Ethan was tight before he reached his peak, even tighter during, making it difficult for Will to hold off much longer. He pulled out, letting Ethan’s hips fall against him while he stroked himself, growling and finishing into the mess already pooled on Ethan’s stomach.

The next few moments were too much and not enough for Ethan, being let out of the hold Hannibal had and allowed to lay back on the couch once Will got up. He missed the contact already, but his shoulders were sore and he needed to catch his breath.

Will came back with tissue, cleaning Ethan up as best he could while Hannibal instructed him to roll and stretch his shoulders to help with the ache.

-

Ethan felt feverish with the attention, wanting to turn it down, but the both of them seemed insistent. Will pulled Ethan to his feet, holding his face in cupped hands, more tender than before. Ethan went lax with the kiss, closed-mouthed, his own fingers tapping gently at a stubble covered jaw.

Will pressed his forehead to Ethan’s, “Shower, Hannibal?”

Ethan broke their eye contact, both of them turning to look at Hannibal. Ethan didn’t catch it, but Will could see that they caught him regarding the two with a fondness, more so Will, eyes catching on him.

“Of course, Will.”

“Join us?” This time it was Ethan asking, offering and hoping that Hannibal would.

“What kind of host would I be if I didn’t, Mr. Nestor?” Hannibal spoke like it was a shared joke, the fondness showing through a small smile. Ethan beamed and put on a fake-serious face.

“Oh, a terrible one, for sure, Doctor. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I didn’t have the utmost care from our courteous host and the lovely Professor Graham.”

Will stared at them with eyebrows raised, obviously amused.

“Well, then it would be in your best interest to get upstairs to receive that care, yes?”

Ethan nodded and looked to Will, pecking his lips and turning to face the stairs, pointing at them in question. He got nods in reply, and Hannibal and Will began to follow several steps behind, speaking to each other quietly.

“Pleasant boy, Will,” Hannibal remarked, nodding up the stairs to let Will follow up first.

“What if I said I wanted to keep him? I want us to keep him,” Will asked, amending the statement, but he seemed bashful. He scratched the back of his neck, waiting for Hannibal to turn down the idea. Even if Hannibal seemed to like Ethan just this once, that certainly didn’t mean he’d be at all okay with the idea of Ethan being around regularly.

“I’d say that if it would make you happy and you were willing to bear the responsibility of ensuring that he stays blind,” Hannibal said, and Will had thought about it already, “In the event of him becoming aware leads to a negative outcome, I will not hesitate to act accordingly and expect the same of you, no matter the affection you have for the boy at the time, then I’d accept your wishes to keep him and for him to be ours.”

He spoke slowly and carefully, Will nodding.

“Thank you, Hannibal.”

-

In the shower, tender and fond touches were exchanged between all three of the men, small kisses pressed to the group of pink and sensitive wounds on Ethan’s shoulder.

He let himself be washed, doing his part to contribute to the cleaning of Hannibal and Will as well, but when a silent moment was shared between the two older men, he stayed quiet, just observing. He couldn’t really blame the warmth in his stomach upon seeing them kiss and hold each other on the alcohol that had long since faded in effect. He didn’t want to.

He suspected this wasn’t something any of the three of them were accustomed to, so he didn’t expect to be invited for dinner again, but he wasn’t scared of it. Not like he was at the table, when Will had asked about it. He felt kind of lucky to get to take part, accept what he was allowed and given.

So, when they were all drying themselves off and Hannibal was handing him a pair of pajamas that looked strikingly similar to his and Will’s, dark green compared to his blue and Will’s red, he accepted them. The satin on his skin was definitely not something he was used to, but it was nice. He ran his hands down his sides to his hips, noting the-

“Ethan, Will has a question for you,” Hannibal was staring at Ethan as if he’d been waiting for him to look up for more than a moment, and when Ethan looked at Will, he had the same look. Ethan laughed nervously and cleared his throat, embarrassed that he’d gotten distracted.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. A question?”

Will smiled when he realized he hadn’t been ignoring him, “Well, Hannibal and I would like to offer- Would you like to come to dinner again this weekend?” Will glanced at Hannibal to make sure it was acceptable, and the just-barely-there nod was all he got.

Ethan blinked at them a few times and went pink.

“Oh.”

He didn’t speak again, not at first, trying to wrangle self-doubt and butterflies.

“Oh?” Will asked, “I meant, only if you want to. We’d enjoy your company, but only if you’d-”

“Yeah. Yes, yeah, I do. Want to come to dinner. Sorry, I- That would be great,” Ethan nodded, grinning. Hannibal smiled behind him, out of sight, and Will joined them.

“Good. That’s good to hear,” Will nodded and scrubbed a hand over his face, stubble softer after their shower and tickling the palm of his hand. It was a nice feeling, a grounding feeling.

A guest bed was offered to Ethan, but when a look of silent rejection followed by acceptance flashed over his eyes, - washed over Will - Will invited him into their bed. Ethan’s face didn’t change, but Will could see his shoulders relax again, so he held out his hand once he was in and scooted closer to Hannibal initially more than he normally did.

Ethan took Will’s hand with about as much confidence as you would expect, chewing his lip and crawling into bed next to him, Hannibal on the other side and already draping an arm over Will’s waist, kissing the back of his neck with a tenderness he seemed to reserve only for Will, plain and simple. It made Ethan more fond of the man, even if he wasn’t the focus of the affection in question.

Will mirrored Hannibal, holding Ethan loosely in his arms, allowing Ethan to rest his head partly on his left arm so he could play with Hannibal’s fingers before pulling Ethan closer, the three of the men flush against each other, more or less.


End file.
